pay attention
by clearvinyl
Summary: "Do I bore you, Mr. Winchester?" Femdom twoshot smut.
1. Chapter 1

"You seem to have trouble concentrating on my class, Mr. Winchester. Is something wrong?" Denise looks over the frame of the glasses, watches from the doorway how Sam's eyes undress her from head to toe before he swallows thickly.

It takes him a minute to catch on but he's quick to play along. "N-no, professor, nothing's wrong."

"But you're just so distracted." He's all but hypnotized by the switch in her hips, the six-inch heels clicking across the library floor as she walks over to the opposite side of the table. There's open books and notes strewn all along the wooden surface, ancient texts about magic and monsters scrawled in ornate letters. She places her hand right on the inked pages and leans over, gives Sam an eyeful of her boobs underneath her barely buttoned shirt, almost spilling out of the lace bra in his favorite color. "Do I bore you, Mr. Winchester?" The edge in her voice is fake but the want on his face is all too real.

He's quick to answer her, quick to say his line in this play so they could get on to the real show. "Of course not, Professor. I could never get bored of you." The words are rough and the double meaning is not lost as his gaze goes past the getup and the game to see just her. She winks, letting him know she loves him too, before moving around the table to his side. After a few pets of his hair, nails rasping his scalp, she grabs a fistful of brown strands tugs his head back, looks down at his exposed throat that bobs once, twice.

She has to work to sound stern and unaffected, like she has no interest in this, like her nipples aren't already hard, her pussy wet. "Maybe your focus needs some training." It's not a question.

He licks his lips and nods as much as he can. She smiles and gives another sharp tug of his hair that he groans for then lets go. She'd already planned out how she is going to torture him so she doesn't have to think about what to do next. She picks up the big book he'd been going over before she walked in the room and handed it over to him, her ass taking its place on the table. She scoots around until she's in the perfect position to spread her legs in front Sam, her feet resting on the arms of his chair as her skirt rides up above her thigh high stockings. The book almost hits the floor when he sees she isn't wearing any panties to match her bra.

She clears her throat and admonishes, "Up here, Mr. Winchester." There's a beat before his gaze snaps up and there's war brewing in his eyes. She knows all too well how much he wants to take control, wants to probably bend her over the table and fuck her until she can't walk straight. But he knows that she can make him feel so, so good when he gives up control, lets her drive him as crazy as he drives her. She pushes him to pick a poison, she's more than fine with either one.

With a raised eyebrow, she challenges, "Are you going to be good for me, Sam?"

He inhales deep, his broad chest rising with it, and then relaxes a bit as he exhales and nods, surrendering the reins.

"Good." She gestures at the book in his grasp. "Read aloud until I say when. Make sure your eyes and hands stay on the book," she commands. She waits for him to follow her orders then leans back on one hand, bringing the other to her mouth so she can suck two fingers into her mouth. Denise watches Sam fight to keep his attention at the page as she moans around her fingers, laves them with her tongue before pulling them out with a pop. She's impressed that he doesn't so much as flicker a glance, though he trips over a over a word or two. He's reading a how-to about protection spells apparently but she's far more interested in the warmth of his voice and the way his mouth moves than the words themselves.

The words are soon drowned out anyway when she ups the ante by fucking her spit-slick fingers into her soaking pussy, the sticky-wet sound of her playing with herself combining with her gasps to overpower whatever the hell he's saying. Jaw clentched hard, Sam stops reading and instead burns holes into the page. His hands are shaking a bit and Denise imagines him taking over, his long fingers going deep and then curling up to rub her spot, relentless as he thumbs her clit. Her hips grind into her hand at the thought, her clit pushing into her palm. They both love when his hands are on, in her pussy but right now he's supposed to be doing something else.

"Focus." She doesn't mean for it to come out as a moan, though an evil part of her enjoys how it makes him close his eyes and take several deep breaths before he tries to continue reading. He's doing well until her leg straightens out onto his shoulder as she rides her fingers harder and his eyes sweep over her like a caress. She doesn't scold him, too far gone to care about their game at the moment, and when he drops the book to squeeze the back of her thighs, all she can do is come. He holds her open and stares as she draws out the pleasure, fingers moving leisurely as her hips stutter.

After she floats down from her high, she crosses her arms, plants a heel into his chest and tsks, "Sammy, you can do better than that." The war's brewing again but she's not giving him a choice this time. "We're not done yet. Move back." She pushes with her foot, digs the heel in a little so he hisses as he scoots the chair back until she says stop.

She appraises him, pretends to look for a problem, acts surprised to see the tent in his jeans. "No wonder you can't concentrate. You've been thinking with the wrong head."

He huffs but doesn't say anything, giving himself over to her again. She grins and kisses him sweetly.

But her voice doesn't match the kiss, words dripping with sinful promises when she says, "We'll have to handle your problem, won't we?"


	2. Chapter 2

The bunker's hard floor is unforgiving under her knees but her fingers are just as unforgiving against his prostate so she guesses it's karma. Besides, the small whimpers Sam keeps trying to choke down more than make up for any discomfort.

She's kept him teetering on the edge for a while now; his skin is shiny with sweat, stomach clenching, and legs trembling as he fights to hold back his orgasm until she says so.

"Denise, please _,_ " he begs, sounding so desperate that she almost lets the slip out of character go. But she's not that nice.

She lifts her head, sliding his dick all the way out her mouth where it was nestled at the back her throat, but puts even more pressure on his spot and asks, "What was that, Mr. Winchester?"

It takes him a moment to realize his mistake, poor thing's too wound up to think straight, but soon enough he's rambling apologies. "Professor. Professor, I'm sorry I'll be good I'll pay attention I promise please just - _please_."  
Yeah, that definitely goes straight to her clit - and her ego. How many times has Sam had her wrapped around his finger in the same way, edging her for what feels like forever just to hear her plead for release? It's always amazing to turn the tables and feel that rush of dominance.

"Hmm, I did say I'd handle your problem, didn't I? Since you begged so nicely, I'll let you cum."

Before he get's too excited, she removes the two fingers from his ass just for the way he whines at the loss of all contact. What can she say, she likes being a little mean but she plans on making it all up to him.

Grabbing the bottle of lube that was stashed in table's drawer (there's lube stashed in every room of the bunker just for this sort of situation), Denise reapplies the slick on her hand, to the point that it drips to the floor, then slides three fingers back where he wants them. His legs shake again as she relentlessly rubs his walls. He tries to ride her hand but she smacks his inner thigh and scolds him, "Don't move, Sammy."

His whine turns into a moan when she takes him back into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head and then _sucking_ for all he's worth. That's the last push he needs and she feels him spurt into her mouth, tastes him come undone.

Denise milks him dry then immediately starts comforting him, rubbing soothing circles into his thighs and peppering sweet kisses up his chest to his face. He nestles his head in her shoulder as he catches his breath and she holds him until he pulls away.

"All good?" she checks.

He answers with the most earnest smile that turns sinful in seconds flat. "You know there's gonna be pay back, right?"

Her stomach flips as she admits, "I was counting on it."


End file.
